Chapter 2 Planting a Seed

The apartment was a box of shadows. Rina did not turn on the lights. She did not need them. She knew where every piece of furniture sat. She knew the distance from the door to the window.

In the dark, she was safe. In the dark, she was just a shape. She threw her emerald dress on the floor. The silk made a soft sound as it hit the wood.

She stood in front of the full-length mirror. The city lights crawled over her skin. They hit the scars on her shoulder and traced the uneven texture of her lower back.

The text message was still on her mind.

I know who you are.

She picked up her burner phone and typed a message to Elias.

Rina: We have a leak. Someone sent a message to my private line. They used my old name.

The reply was instant.

Elias: Impossible. That line is encrypted. I am checking the logs now. Focus on the analyst. We need the fire to start from the bottom.

Rina put the phone down and walked to her desk.

She opened her laptop.

The blue light washed over her face. It made her skin look pale and her eyes look like glass. She had spent the last six months buying shell companies.

They were small.

They were quiet.

They were located in places where the law was a suggestion.

Together, they held a five percent stake in Blackwood's primary shipping hub. It wasn't enough to take the company, but it was enough to demand an audit.

She clicked through the files and looked at the names of the board members. She looked at their spending habits and at their secrets.

"Domination," she whispered to the empty room.

She wasn't looking for a seat at the table. She was looking to break the table.

At 2:00 AM, Rina met Elias in a garage. The air smelled of oil and damp concrete.

Elias sat in the back of a van. He had three monitors in front of him. His fingers moved fast.

"I sent the ledger," Elias said. He didn't look up. "Marcus Thorne, junior analyst, twenty-four years old. Ivy League degree. He is hungry. He wants to be a hero."

"Will he see the discrepancy?" Rina asked.

"I made it easy for him," Elias replied. "A two-million-dollar gap in the logistics insurance fund. It is a small thread. If he pulls it, the whole sweater unveils."

"And the server access?"

Elias finally looked at her. He had dark circles under his eyes.

"I am in. But Lucien is smart. He has a secondary firewall. It is manual. I can see the data, but I cannot delete it without a physical key."

"Where is the key?"

"His office. The top floor of Blackwood Towers."

Rina looked at the monitors. She saw the lines of code. They looked like bars on a cage.

"I have a meeting with him at nine," she said.

"The text told me to be there."

"Do not go," Elias said. "It is a trap. If someone knows who you are, they are waiting for you to walk into that building."

"I am not a girl in a cage anymore, Elias. I am the owner of his debt. If I don't show up, I look weak. Lucien Blackwood smells weakness. He feeds on it." She turned to leave.

"Rina," Elias called out.

She stopped.

"The ledger I sent to the boy. It has a ghost signature. I had to use an old employee ID to bypass the internal encryption. It was the only way to make the leak look authentic."

"Whose ID?" Elias hesitated. "Aderinsola Adeyemi. It was the only one with the right permissions for that specific year."

Rina felt her heart skip. "You used my dead name as a lure."

"I used it as a weapon," Elias corrected. "The analyst will think a ghost is talking to him. He will dig deeper."

The next morning, Blackwood Towers stood tall against the gray sky. It was a spear of glass. It looked cold. It looked untouchable.

Rina walked through the lobby. She wore a sharp charcoal suit. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She looked like a woman who ate CEOs for breakfast.

The security guard checked her ID.

"Ms. Vale. Mr. Blackwood is expecting you."

She took the private elevator. The ride was silent. Her stomach did not flip. She did not feel nervous. She felt focused.

The doors opened to the penthouse floor. The walls were mahogany. The carpet was thick. It muffled her footsteps.

Lucien's office was at the end of the hall. The double doors were open. He was standing by the window. He was looking at the city. He did not have a jacket on. His white shirt was crisp. His sleeves were rolled up.

"You are early," he said. He did not turn around.

"I don't like to keep people waiting," Rina said. She sat in the chair across from his desk.

She did not ask for permission.

Lucien turned. He looked at her. His eyes were tired. They were intense. He leaned against the window frame.

"I spent all night looking at your portfolio," Lucien said. "The Vale Group didn't exist two years ago. Then, suddenly, you are buying up debt in three continents. Where did the money come from?"

"I have good investors," Rina said.

"Madam Graves is not just an investor. She is a kingmaker. Why is she backing you?"

"She likes my vision."

"And what is your vision, Rina? You buy a stake in my company, you show up at my gala, and you insult my board. What do you want?"

Rina leaned forward. "I want the truth."

Lucien laughed. It was a dry, hollow sound.

"The truth is a luxury. We are in the business of results."

"The results of five years ago were a lie," Rina said and Lucien's face went still. The air in the room became heavy.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"The fraud. The missing millions. The girl who went to prison. You and I both know she didn't do it."

Lucien walked toward his desk. He sat down and leaned over the wood.

He was close now. She could smell his cologne. It was sandalwood and iron.

"That case is closed," Lucien said. "The woman is dead."

"Is she?" Rina asked.

She didn't blink. "Or is she just waiting for the right moment to come back?"

Lucien reached into his drawer. He pulled out a piece of paper. He slid it across the desk. It was a printout of the text message Rina had received.

"I didn't send this," Lucien said. "But I received one just like it."

Rina looked at the paper.

Unknown: She is back. The ghost is in your house. Check the emeralds.

Rina felt a cold sweat on her neck. She thought about the emeralds Vanessa was wearing.

"Someone is playing a game," Lucien said. "They are using you to get to me. Or they are using me to get to you."

"I am not a pawn, Lucien."

"Then stop acting like one. Tell me who you really are." He reached across the desk. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand toward him.

He pushed back the sleeve of her jacket. He was looking for the mark. He was looking for the thin white line where the handcuffs had cut into her skin.

Rina pulled her arm back. She stood up.

"I am the woman who owns your logistics hub," she said. "That is all you need to know. Tomorrow, I am calling for an emergency board meeting. We are going to talk about the insurance fund."

Lucien stood up too. He looked angry. "You are overstepping."

"I am just getting started." She turned and walked out of the office. She didn't look back. She could feel his gaze burning into her.

Six floors below, Marcus Thorne sat in a cubicle. His eyes were bloodshot. He had been at his desk for fourteen hours. He had the ledger on his screen. He had the internal logs open next to it. He was looking at the insurance gap. It was there.

Two million dollars. Moved through a shell account. He clicked on the metadata of the file. He wanted to see who had last edited the document.

A name appeared in the corner of the screen.

User ID: A. Adeyemi

Marcus frowned. He searched the company directory. No results found. He went into the archived files. He found the personnel records from five years ago. He found the face.

The woman in the photo had softer hair. She had a kind smile. But the eyes were the same.

Marcus looked at the digital fingerprint on the ledger. It wasn't just a name. It was a live credential. He tapped his chin and looked around the quiet office.

"How is a dead woman logging into the server?" he whispered.

He clicked on the active connection log.

The ghost wasn't just in the files. The ghost was currently in the building. The signal was coming from the executive elevator.

Marcus grabbed his phone. He took a picture of the screen. He saw a small note at the bottom of the encrypted file. It was a hidden line of text. It was a secret password.

The password was a date.

05-12-21

Marcus realized what it was. It was the date of the miscarriage in the state facility. He felt a chill run down his spine.

This wasn't just fraud.

This was haunting.

He began to type a new email but he didn't send it to his boss. He didn't send it to the board.

He sent it to a private address he had found in the metadata.

I found the fingerprint, he wrote. I know what you did.

Suddenly, his screen went black.

A single line of red text appeared.

GO HOME, MARCUS. OR YOU WILL BE THE NEXT GHOST.